


While My Drift Gently Weeps

by Autobratty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of The Circle of Light, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 01:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: Drift finds out what happened to the Circle of Light.(For days 3 & 4 of Lost Light Fest!)





	While My Drift Gently Weeps

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this has been sitting in my WIPs for literal years. It is such a relief to get this off my hands, even if I just slammed it out in, what, maybe an hour? Never written Dratchet before and had NO idea for a title, so this is a bit shabby but *shrugs*
> 
> Anyways, found it interesting no one had explored this concept before, so enjoy!

Ratchet had tracked down Drift, fought tooth and nail to get him to come with him, and was now in the process of getting the two of them back to the Lost Light. There wasn’t a whole lot to do in the tiny shuttle, so Ratchet ended up spending more time alone with his thoughts than he’d like, and something a tad unsettling crossed his mind.

He glanced over at Drift, who’d been busying himself with polishing his Great Sword (again). It gleamed so brightly by now that its finish was nearly mirror.

“Hey, Drift?”

Without looking up, the speedster replied with a simple, “Hm?”

“You used to live with the Circle of Light, right?”

Drift’s hands stilled, the mention of the Circle garnering his full attention. “...You could say that. Why do you ask?”

Ratchet shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms. “Did you ever find out what happened to them?”

The swordsmech shook his head, a small tinge of guilt leaking into his EM field. “After I was exiled, the first thing I did was try to find them. If I’d be welcomed anywhere in the universe, it would be with them.” He smiled a little ruefully. “Not that I deserve it.” Drift looked up, smile falling away. “Why are you bringing this up?”

Ratchet sighed, reaching up to rub at his chevron. “I’m bringing it up because… we found them.”

Drift sat up ramrod straight, finials perking up as high as they could go. He set his sword aside. “You did?! Where were they?! Are they okay?!” His field darkened bit by bit as the seconds ticked by, Ratchet not meeting his gaze. “Ratch…?”

“One of the Circle’s members sold them out,” Ratchet suddenly blurted. “Star Saber. Chief Justice Tyrest sent out his law-enforcing drones, the Legislators, to capture them. That’s why the city was in such shambles. They put up a good fight, but ultimately they were overtaken. Tyrest was working on a killswitch to simultaneously kill all cold-constructed mecha, and used them to experiment on. The dead were recycled into parts for new Legislators. We found them starved and in cages, and-”

“Stop,” Drift choked out. Ratchet’s head snapped up, spark clenching when he saw the clean streaks left by tears on the speedster’s dirty face. “Stop. Please. I don’t want to hear anymore.” As much as he wanted to, there was one more piece of information that Drift had to know.

“Dai Atlas is dead.”

A strangled sob left Drift’s vocalizer, more tears pouring down his cheeks. He’d been keeping his field tightly reined, but could no longer hold it back. The full force of his emotions nearly knocked Ratchet over: a maelstrom of pain, fury, sadness, mourning, guilt. It was too much all at once, and all Drift could think was, _This is all your fault. This is because of YOU. You ruined EVERYTHING._

The swordsmech’s field all about screamed as much. Ratchet’s spark swam in its own guilt for breaking the news, but he knew it had to be done. The medic got up, joints creaking in protest, and crossed the small space to sit down next to Drift, wrapping an arm around him. “Look, kid-”

Ratchet was shocked and a bit shaken when Drift suddenly turned and all but threw himself at the older mech, burying his face into his neck cables. Ratchet shivered briefly at the sensation of the speedster’s wet cheeks pressed into the crook of his neck, his soft lips quivering with whimpers. After a moment, Ratchet gave in and wrapped his arms around Drift in a tight embrace. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured against the side of Drift’s head. He stroked the small winglets on the white mech’s back that the Great Sword usually rested between. “Star Saber would’ve done it regardless of whether or not you showed up. It’s not your fault.”

As much as he wanted to, Drift couldn’t believe that, but instead of protesting, he simply clung to Ratchet, the only thing that had ever been constant in his tumultuous, ever-changing world. Eventually, his sobs faded into small hiccups, and his wildly flaring spark calmed to pulse in tandem with Ratchet’s, whose gently rumbling engine slowly lulled Drift to sleep.

Ratchet found that he didn’t mind having a lapful of clingy, snoozing speedster nearly as much as he thought he would. He reclined best he could, maneuvering the two of them into the most comfortable position possible. He too was exhausted, but was well aware that this may be the only time he’d ever experience the feeling of Drift’s warm frame cradled against his own. Therefore, he opted to stay awake and enjoy it while it lasted.

His breath caught when he felt Drift’s lips purse against his neck in what almost could’ve been a kiss, had the speedster been awake. “You really are something, kid,” Ratchet whispered, squeezing Drift a little closer, and despite his best efforts, the doctor slowly slipped into recharge himself, completely content for the first time in a very, very long time.


End file.
